The NE Curse

For those of you who may not read my blog all that much - and even for those of you have picked up on the fact that I kind of like teaching, but haven't yet picked up on other nuances of the Dreweyfern Blog, allow me to enlighten you to the fact that I love New England. I think it is one of the best (if not THE best) places on Earth. It is beautiful - historical - characterful - idiosyncratic in a most endearing way - and pretty much perfect in every possible way.

However (as we learn in the Little Elba song), there has to be something to remind us that this world is not our home, and that we're bound for a more perfect place. New England's particular reminder is mosquitoes.

Daddy set up the hammock: the place of joy and peace and relaxation. Hurrah! However, I kind of forgot (during all those winter months) that evening is not the best time for hammock lounging. I happily read for a little while before noticing my back was kind of itchy. As was my arm. And there were some mosquitoes and mayflies buzzing around. I decided it was time to go inside.

And THERE I discovered that I had not been victim to a bug here or there. I had been absolutely GNAWED upon! I had been out there with a blanket, but the weasely bugs had figured out that they could access my back and arm from the backside of the hammock. I HAD 15 BITES!!! Grrrrr. And some of them were huge! My prize winner is about the size of a quarter.

Being the socialite that I am, I went from family member to family member showing them the monstrosity on my arm, garnering all the sympathy I could. They did a good job being sympathetic. But I needed MORE sympathy. So up to Shawn and Gretchen's I went. Ian let out a particularly gratifying exclamation of awe when he saw the bite. Little boys know all about bad bug bites.

In the famed words from years gone by: poor, poor, pitiful me!